Run: 2026-04-24-01KPZTVSMQ581TTF55E2PE6P9V

The rain fell steadily against the gothic windows of Ravenshollow Manor, where thirteen guests had gathered for dinner that evening. Inside the grand dining hall, crystal chandeliers cast flickering shadows across faces that smiled without warmth or genuine feeling. Lord Ashworth raised his wineglass slowly, offering a toast to friendships old and secrets that would remain buried forever. The butler, Mr. Pemberton, noticed immediately that one chair sat empty, though all thirteen guests had arrived before sunset. A sudden crash echoed from the library upstairs, silencing conversation and freezing every hand that held silverware midway through motion. Lady Ashworth stood abruptly, her napkin falling like a white flag onto the polished mahogany floor beneath shaking feet. Nobody moved for several long seconds, until the grandfather clock struck nine times with ominous deliberation throughout the silent manor. Detective Marlowe, seated quietly near the window, rose calmly and gestured for the others to remain exactly where they sat. He walked upstairs alone, following the trail of fresh blood that painted the carpet in deep crimson, accusing strokes. Behind the oak door, Professor Whitmore lay motionless, clutching a torn photograph that would unravel every secret hidden within Ravenshollow.